They say He was a serious child
And quiet in His ways
They say the gentlest lady smiled
To hear the neighbors' praise

The coffers of her heart would close
Upon their smaliest word
Yet did they say, "How tall He grows!"
They thought she had not heard

They say upon His birthday eve
She'd rock Him to His rest
As if she could not have Him leave
The shelter of her breast

The poor must go in bitter thrift
The poor must give in pain
But ever did she get a gift
To greet His day again

They say she'd kiss the Boy awake
And hail Him gay and clear
But oh, her heart was like to break
To count another year